


flowers in her hair, magic in our veins

by scorpiusismypatronus



Category: Lunar Chronicles - Marissa Meyer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, F/F, First Dates, Fluff, Lizards, Realistic, Useless Lesbians, Written for a Class, and my parents blocked ao3 @home so??, and now u get to see it!!, i lov iko!!, i've been Coping™, i've not been on much sorry, idk what this is, mentions of love, my gays are gay, w different names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 01:24:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10980441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpiusismypatronus/pseuds/scorpiusismypatronus
Summary: Cress has been in love with Iko for a long time.It's about time she knew.





	flowers in her hair, magic in our veins

Her name is Iko, and I’ve been in love with her for a long time. I don’t know how long.

 

It just hit me one day, like the wave that caused the rock to hit her chin and left a scar. I loved her.

 

Her hair is curly, hanging down her back in ringlets, dark brown and blue strands intertwined. Her skin is dark brown and smooth. Right now, she’s wearing a white dress. She’s got a flower crown in her hair; I made it for her with the violets in my front lawn.

 

She runs towards me the second she sees me. “Cress! I missed you so much!”

 

“It’s only been an hour,” I say, but I’m flattered. As she comes closer, I notice the blue paint dotting her hands and a smudge on her shoulder. 

 

She gives me a hug that smells like cinnamon and paint. She’s probably left paint on my gray t-shirt. I don’t care. 

 

Iko takes my hand and pulls me into her house. It’s so neat, unlike mine. Mine is small -- I live with only my stepmother, who’s almost never there. When she is, though, she leaves her stuff all over. Iko's house has little glass jars with feathers or seashells or pebbles on the shelves. Everything has its own place. You won’t find a bookshelf with puzzles on it, because the puzzles go in the cabinet, and there’s a specific place in the cabinet for them. You won’t find clothes on the couch or bagels in the crock pot. In her house, everything has a place.

 

“Hey, Cress. It’s good to see you again,” says Iko's mom, Sandra.

 

“Yeah, you too. I haven’t been around in a while.”

 

“I’m glad you’re back. You can help yourself to some food if you like.”

 

“Thank you,” I smile.

 

“No problem.”

 

“C’mon, c’mon, Cress, you have to meet my lizard May.”

 

“May?”

 

“Yeah, short for Mayonnaise.”

 

“You… you named your lizard… Mayonnaise?”

 

“Yes, Cress, I named my lizard Mayonnaise. Do you have a problem with that?”

 

I laugh. “Um, kind of, yes. But I’d be honoured to meet Mayonnaise.”

 

She bolts down the hallway, and I follow her, worn sneakers pattering softly against the floor.

 

She takes a hard left into her room, which is just as clean as the rest of her house. 

 

She has a wood floor with a blue carpet. Sunlight streams in through the open window, and the shades flutter in the breeze. 

 

Her bed is white with a pastel pink spread. There aren’t open drawers; they’re all closed, and it’s foreign to me. I don’t know how she manages to keep it so clean. The only thing that isn’t completely put away is her collection of makeup, which takes its place on her desk in front of the mirror.

 

She points to the glass cabinet on the windowsill, where a lizard sits, perched on a log.

 

“Aw! She’s so cute!”

 

“I know. I got her on Thursday. Oh! Did you hear about the new movie coming out?”

 

“Yes! Do you want to go see it with me?” I blurt out without thinking.

 

“Crescent Moon Darnel, did you just ask me out?”

 

I can feel my cheeks burning brighter than the stars. “I, um. I mean-”

 

“Cress, I’m saying yes. Okay? So stop blushing. How about you come here at six on Monday?”

 

“Okay,” I say. My heart is beating hard enough to escape from my chest.

 

“Okay, six on Monday.” She raises her voice about eighty decibels. “I guess it’s a date, then.”

 

In the distance, I can hear her mom laugh.


End file.
